


Guardian

by UselessReptileWrites



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-07 14:16:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15220973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UselessReptileWrites/pseuds/UselessReptileWrites
Summary: Wolf Link did not sign up for this.





	Guardian

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by thinking about my normal Breath of the Wild fighting style, and what Wolf Link must think of it.

When Link had been approached by the light spirits of Hyrule and asked to watch over and guide another one of his incarnations on his quest, he hadn’t expected a lot of things.

He’d expected to be there the entire time, and not just summoned whenever his other (Past? Future? Alternate?) self felt like it.

He also expected to be human and not a wolf.

But that was life. You could be a goatherd in a small town one day and the assistant of not one, but two princesses the next.

So when he went from chatting to a resident of some town far from Ordon to standing beside his other incarnation, who was huddling behind a large square of ice sitting in the pond in an otherwise balmy field, beeping and whirring in the air, it wasn’t a complete surprise.

“What?” he wanted to ask his other self. All that came out was a resigned huff.

His other self winced as something on the other side of the ice clanked and began signing at him. His hands were shaking as he did so, either from nervousness or the speed at which he was signing. It kind of made him hard to understand.

Very quickly, though, Link translated the message. His other self wanted him to kill something on the other side of the ice, something strong.

He made a sound he hoped sounded like acknowledgement and stepped around the block of ice, paws sloshing through ankle-deep water. He bared his fangs, ready to meet another swarm of Bokoblins.

He came face to face with a giant, rusted, metal thing, half buried in the mud. Its eye went from glowing blue to red to–

Link realized what was going to happen just in time to sprint to the side. Something shot over his pointed ears. Almost immediately after, an explosion shook the ground under his paws, and searing heat made him fear for his tail.

He sprinted back behind the ice, this time standing on his other self’s opposite side.

 His other self turned to face him, still kneeling, and began signing again. From what Link could understand, his every other word was “kill.” Many of the words in between he’d had to speak with Malo, Talo, and Beth about using–or rather, the need for them not to use.

Link wanted to say, “Kill it yourself.” He knew, however, that he didn’t have any say in the matter. Not only because of the language barrier; the only way he was going back was if his alternate self sent him, or if they entered a town. He didn’t know why he couldn’t enter towns here, since no one here could see him anyways, but it was one of those things that just were.

The ice shook and cracked as that _thing_ fired another explosion, this time trying to break down their shelter.

“Fine,” the other Link said, his hands still shaking. This time it might’ve been from frustration as well as fear. “You keep that guardian's attention on you, and I’ll fire arrows at it. Okay?”

Link sighed and nodded. It wasn’t like he had much of a choice in the matter.

“On three.” The other Link drew his bow and nocked an arrow. He raised three fingers, and Link watched each one slowly go down.

The second the last one touched the other Link’s palm, Wolf Link leaped out from behind the ice. Just in time, as it crumbled to splinters under another explosion.

Link folded back his ears and sprinted toward the machine, hoping he came out of this with his fur intact.

The thing turned its head onto him, and the red line of light appeared on him once again.

He didn’t sign up for this.

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism is always welcomed!


End file.
